


Patterns in the Patchwork

by kseda



Category: Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: Accidental Marriage, But mostly romantic fluff, M/M, Time War prelude, fixing Gallifrey just to blow it up again, post-Gallifrey Chronicles, restoring lost memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kseda/pseuds/kseda
Summary: Other worlds, other times, myriads of other book shops, music shops, duty-frees, jumble sales, treasuries, dungeons, corridors, rock-strewn wastelands, space stations.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/Fitz Kreiner
Kudos: 6





	Patterns in the Patchwork

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 2007 classicdw_fic ficathon on Livejournal, and reposted as published at the time.

It was hard to tell what the Doctor was thinking in that moment, his features expressed so many emotions in the space of a few heartbeats. Fitz caught fear, delight, and exasperation but failed to see a trace of surprise. He was unsure how to he felt about that, and so settled for a grin and a more casual lean against the console. "Hey."

The Doctor simply shook his head and closed the TARDIS door. He studied Fitz as he stepped up to the console, a warm smile finally alighting on his face. "Do you want me to ask?" he inquired.

Fitz shrugged his left shoulder. His right arm was still in a sling, but a least he was upright, a marked improvement over recent days. "I did some thinking in hospital. About nearly getting killed again, and about settling down, and then I did a lot of thinking about Trix and her bank account." He sighed and glanced towards the ceiling. "I figured out I wasn't done yet."

"With traveling."

"Yeah."

"And nearly getting killed."

"Ye- well, no, I'd like to avoid that." Fitz returned his gaze to the Doctor, who was leaning against one of the support girders. "So I want to keep going, basically."

The Doctor folded his arms and cocked his head. "That may be the morphine talking, Fitz."

He grinned. "That's what Trix said. Then she told me you were doing a runner and helped get me on board before you left."

Somehow the Doctor managed to look sheepish. "I thought you'd made up your mind. I was afraid if I prolonged good-bye then you would change it."

"Sorry," Fitz mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck with a wince. "Just... you're getting your memories back now, right? I figured I should be here for that." He caught the Doctor's eyes and tried once more to read him, not that he'd ever been good at it. The Doctor was the mind reader, the soul searcher, Fitz just followed his lead.

In actual fact there had been a long discussion, possibly a debate, maybe an argument with Trix about his decision. Fitz had insisted that the Doctor would need him once the amnesia was broken, that he had to be there to help him. She had demanded to know if the time would come when he would do something because he needed to, and even as she said it she knew what his reply would be. He needed this, to be with the Doctor through this, and he was sorry and she had been great but-

Trix told him to shut up and get dressed, he had a TARDIS to catch.

Now the Doctor was at the controls, flipping switches and adjusting dials in a way that Fitz suddenly realized was far removed from random. His hand hovered precariously over the dematerialization button as he frowned at his companion. "You are certain about this?"

Fitz smirked. "Come on Doc, you can't expect me to leave now things are getting interesting, can you?"

"No, I suppose that would be unfair," the Doctor replied and pushed the button. He stepped back from the console again and, much to Fitz's unease, rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Right, that should take a while. Come on, there's a lot to be done."

~*~

The TARDIS was wasting no time in repairing itself this time through, almost as if the ship were getting accustomed to being blown up or otherwise deconstructed. A little over a week since the interior had been demolished by a nuclear explosion within its confines and things were already nearly back to normal. The kitchen and medical facility were both fully functional and stocked, which lead Fitz to beleive that the Doctor had made some side trips already. Not that he was complaining, especially after one of the outer space gadgets repaired his arm in a few hours rather than the several weeks he'd been expecting. He was still amazed he'd managed to get out of the Vore hive's collapse with nothing worse than a broken arm and a concussion.

Rachel had not been as lucky.

He was torn away from that thought when the Doctor poked his head into the kitchen, some indefinable time after they'd left Earth, and announced that they had arrived. Fitz took his coffee and followed him into the console room, where the ceiling was doing that thing where it looked like space was exploding around them again.

"Got the holographic display working, then," he remarked, pleased that he'd remembered the technical term. "Where are we?"

"Nowhere special at the moment," the Doctor replied. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an unexpectedly large ovoid. It was slightly translucent and seemed to swirl with all the colors of the nebulae overhead.

Fitz thought about that. "Okay, and when is the moment? And what is that?"

The Doctor held the ovoid in both his hands and peered into it solemnly. "Call it a seed, or an egg." He tore his gaze away from it and grinned at Fitz. "I downloaded the Matrix into it."

"The one that was in your brain, not the one from those films Anji hated."

"No, you were right the first time." The Doctor looked at the egg again. "Every Time Lord mind exists in this egg. All their experience, all their knowledge, everything they were is in this egg."

"What will you do with it?"

Another slightly manic grin. "Throw it into the solar system that's forming outside and see what happens."

Fitz spluttered. "How will that- no, wait, when are we?"

"Right now it is impossible to detect Gallifrey at any point in space and time, which makes it seem like it never existed," the Doctor explained. "Madame Xing sent these coordinates along with the seed-egg, according to her estimates this is where a planet such as Gallifrey would be most likely to develop." He shifted the egg so it rest in the palm of his left hand and operated the door lever. "We're five billion years after the Big Bang, Mutter's Spiral is just getting itself sorted, and..." He started for the door, Fitz following with a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "The favorable probability combined with this sort of catalyst will enable the planet to restore itself."

There was a thoughtful nod from Fitz, followed by an abrupt shake of his head as they reached the door. "No, sorry, it can't be that simple. It's beyond our usual level of weirdness, we've crossed into 'bloody mad' now."

"You said that after the planet called Albert. Then we met the poodles. And I know you said to never mention the Crooked World again but-"

"All right, all right, you win as always," Fitz said and just stopped himself form grinning. He schooled his expression into something approaching solemn. "I promise to let nothing you do surprise me ever again."

"Oh, but that will get boring." The Doctor brought the ovoid up close to his face, gave it a quick kiss, then gently lobbed it out into probability and starstuff. "Good luck!" he called cheerfully, then headed back toward the console to close the doors. Fitz sipped his coffee, offered a lame little wave to the cosmos, then rejoined the Doctor beside the holographic control. The Time Lord was absently powering the display down and the ceiling resumed its usual cathedral-esque appearance. In the Doctor's left hand were two pills, one green and one orange. "Can I borrow your coffee?"

Fitz considered this for a few moments. "Do not tell me your memories are in those."

The Doctor smiled, chagrined. "After a fashion. With the Matrix cleared out there's room for my memories to be restored to consciousness. The pills contain certain proteins and enzymes which will gradually stimulate the neurons to reconnect and-"

"Technobable. No, worse, biobable," Fitz sighed and offered his coffee mug.

"Sorry." The coffee and the pills were both given scrutiny and the Doctor sighed. "Over a century now I've wanted this and run from it so many times that... well, as you said before it's almost too simple now." He paused, a pensive frown creasing his brow. "The orange one will bring back 'good' memories, the green one 'bad'. Which one do I take first, Fitz?"

Fitz drew a breath through his teeth and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "You know as well as I do the answer to that."

"Of course." The Doctor popped both tablets into his mouth, took a sip of the coffee, set the mug down beside the helmic regulator, and swallowed.

The only sound for some moments was the incessant thrum of the TARDIS. Fitz reminded himself to breathe as the Doctor's eyes drifted closed, as his expression went blank, as... nothing seemed to happen. This went on for a few more moments, then Fitz took a cautious step towards the Time Lord, then another, until he stood before him and then the Doctor's eyes snapped open and his hands came up to grip Fitz's arms and they both gasped in shock.

"I've been other people," the Doctor said in a rush. "I was older shorter blonder sadder - ah!" He tried collapsing but Fitz's hands were there to steady him, and somehow they both managed to stay upright. The Doctor was staring ahead and looking back. "I've died, over and over, horrible deaths and..." He trailed off with a gasp.

Fitz winced, suddenly struck by the realization of what was happening. This was it, the dreaded longed-for moment, and it could all go very, very badly. "Doctor?"

The Doctor blinked as his focus returned, and an elated smile spread across his face. "I've lived too, though. I've been so many people and I've lived every moment of them." Letting go of Fitz he stepped back, turning in place as he gazed about the console room in wonder. "I've always had that," he murmured, and stopped spinning when he faced his companion again. "And I've always had friends. It all keeps changing, there is always going to be something new, and still there will be life. And hope. And..."

"And?"

"And adventures!" With that the Doctor bounded past Fitz to the console, swept his hand across the controls (in a way which most certainly was random), and punched the dematerialization button. The central column rose and fell with its customary roar, offset by a deep rumbling as the TARDIS shook itself free of here-and-now and set course for wherever-and-whenever.

Fitz had flung himself at the console to rescue his coffee and was hanging now on to the railing beside the Doctor. "Where are we going?" he shouted over the din. He was grinning now, because the Doctor was and because the Doctor was still himself, and really always had been.

"I have no idea!" the Doctor replied. "Somewhere else!" Then he started to laugh.

~*~

The memories did not "come back" all at once as Fitz had feared. Instead they cropped up at random, a face, a name, an event, each met with the thrill of discovery tempered with glee or sorrow. Sometimes the Time Lord would look at his human companion with something akin to hurt, or betrayal. You knew this all along, you kept this from me, you presumed you knew what was best, you denied me myself. Sometimes when Fitz wandered off for a smoke it would turn into two or three as he tried keeping needless panic away. Sometimes the Doctor would not tell him what he was seeing.

Usually none of that happened, and the two of them carried on being madcap planet-savers and seekers of fortune.

The fortune-seeking thing was new, spurred by the Doctor's suddenly recalling a scavenger hunt across time and space he'd once been tasked to complete. He had been traveling with Romana ("the first one") and K9 ("the second one") and the balance of the universe had been at stake. Fortunately nothing so important had presented itself yet, so they settled for recovering artifacts which had been lost over the course of the TARDIS being blown up and reconstructed repeatedly.

One such trip took them to the planet Osson, where the native population was humanoid but still thoroughly alien, with pale blue skin, flaming red hair, and slanting black eyes. They were a genuinely friendly people known for their metalworking, and the Doctor procured a replica of the Ossoni bronze candelabra that had once been in the library, as well as a selection of books while Fitz picked up yet more musical recordings. Then the ambassador whose city they'd saved from a Haturu raiding party has insisted they stay for the summer festival, and then things got a bit silly.

"We have to get some bottles of whatever this stuff is!" Fitz called and drained his glass of violet-colored alcohol.

The Doctor grabbed his elbow and tried hauling him across the crowded central square. "Already done," he shouted over the music and the fireworks overhead and the laughing revelers all around them. "Mesita wine, Zoe was fond of it as well but Jamie preferred the-"

At which point they found themselves flung into a herd of dancers. Fitz took hold of the Doctor's hand to keep from losing him, and soon they were caught up in the swirl of the dance as it spiraled through the square. The Doctor laughed and tried guiding Fitz through the complicated steps, toward and away from one another and spinning, always spinning around an undefined nexus until they found themselves there, at the center of everything.

"This is new!" The Doctor shouted. "It was winter when I was here last, and-" He ducked and swung around, offering his right hand to an Ossoni who tied a thin cord around his wrist. "And the dance was different, more symmetrical."

"That so?" Fitz replied, trying to keep himself from stepping on the Doctor's toes any more than he already had. His own right hand was claimed and the other end of the Doctor's string was bound to his wrist. This was occurring with other partners throughout the square, so he shrugged and decided to go with it as the tempo of the dance increased slightly. "I'm glad I could be here for this new and interesting thing."

The Doctor held up their joined hands. "I am very glad you are with me now." Three pairs of Ossonis passed between them, then the Doctor twisted gracefully so he back was pressed to Fitz's chest and lead them under the upraised arms of other dancers.

"You realize," Fitz panted as he struggled to keep up, "that I am only doing this to keep the natives happy. And because I am a bit drunk, thank God." He found himself shoved backwards as the Doctor swung an arm's length away once more with a flourish that Fitz clumsily copied. The cord binding their hands strained but held. "Never done this before, my arse!"

"I haven't, honestly! You just have to go with the flow, you're doing fine!" They whirled together again, with the rest of the dancers, with the rest of the universe, and came to a stop before the ambassador himself. Herself. Fitz hadn't figured out how gender worked on this planet yet.

The ambassador held up his/her hands and the cacophony lessened. "Today's celebration would not be possible without our saviors, who banished the shadow people from our midst!" The crowd erupted into raucous applause which the heroes responded to with a cheerful wave and a nervous grin, respectively. "In thanks, we offer blessings of happiness to them both. Thank you, Fitz and the Doctor!"

"First billing for once!" Fitz shouted over the resultant cheering.

"Bow, Fitz," the Doctor instructed. They both did so, and when they rose wreaths of golden flowers were placed on their heads and the ambassador covered their joined hands with her (or possibly his) own.

"From this moment forth you shall be united in harmony. Where ever your travels may take you, whatever distances may separate you, you will always be together in your hearts. So be it!" The square was once more filled with a joyous roar, and the Doctor waved and shouted his thanks while all color drained from Fitz's face.

The Time Lord registered the sheer unmitigated horror on his companion's face and his grin faltered a fraction. "Are you all right?"

It took some doing but eventually Fitz found his voice. "More wine. I need a lot more wine. Now."

~*~

Two days later they were being held captive in a dungeon on some planet neither had caught the name of yet.

"So much for those blessings of happiness."

"Are you still upset about that?"

"Of course I am! Some bloody mad aliens went and had us get married against our will, I'd say that's plenty of reason to be angry."

"'Against our will' is a bit of an exaggeration, surely."

"I didn't know what they were up to. Did you know what they were up to?"

"No."

"There you are, then."

"But I don't see why it's such a bad thing. Besides, the ceremony is only recognized as binding in the local galactic sector, and only in a certain time period, and we're outside of both now." There was a pause and a sigh. "Is the idea of being married to me really so dreadful?"

"Yes! Well, no, I mean... it's nothing personal, it's just you're a bloke."

"Oh, stop being so provincial, Fitz!"

"Easy for you to say! I'm sure you're well accustomed to randomly ending up in wedded bliss with people, aren't you?"

The reply was slow in coming. "Not really, no. I can't recall it happening too often at all. Of course I still can't quite remember my first life very well but there must have been-"

"Susan's granny, yeah."

"-yes, well. I do know I was engaged to a woman named Cameca. An Aztec, I think. Then there was that incident in Borneo in the twenty-eighth century; Jamie reacted about as well as you have. Oh, and Jo, that was almost as awkward as when Leela promised me I'd be her chief husband."

"I think my point stands, Doctor." There was a bland note of irritation in Fitz's voice.

"Wait, are you jealous now?"

"God, no! It's just..."

"You are!"

At which point a guard mercifully turned up to haul them off for an audience with the latest megalomaniac with a doomsday device.

~*~

Other worlds, other times, myriads of other book shops, music shops, duty-frees, jumble sales, treasuries, dungeons, corridors, rock-strewn wastelands, space stations, and that one unpleasant (or not) stint in the harem of the Empress of Thlokar passed into new memories. Old ones still emerged from time to time, but they tended to be discussed less often. Once in a while they'd run into old friends of the Doctor's, like the journalist who had reassured them of Sam's well being, and the ginger bloke who kept giving them a smug, superior look that Fitz had wanted to smack off his face, and the girl (woman) with the ponytail who called the Doctor "Professor" and refused to let Fitz near her motorbike.

Adventures, time and space, and despite their best efforts there was still the occasional "nearly getting killed" incident for one or both of them, but in their line of work it was to be expected. The Doctor was more less whole once again, and Fitz had convinced himself he was not, in fact, getting too old for this silliness.

Coming to that conclusion was a clear invitation for disaster, and naturally their very next materialization brought them to Gallifrey.

"I thought we were going to Cheem!" Fitz hissed when they stepped out of the TARDIS and were surrounded by a squad of men in red and white uniforms with funny hats. Just to be safe he casually raised his hands above his head.

"We were," the Doctor said gravely. The look on his face was once more unreadable, and Fitz was sure he didn't want to try and understand what his friend was feeling.

They were ushered into a conference room, lavishly appointed and populated by people in absurd robes with ridiculous collars. There was woman who was dressed sensibly, and who somehow managed to carry off the most believable air of importance and grace. Her gaze settled on the pair of them and she drew a sharp breath. "Doctor!"

Romana (one of her), Madame President of the High Council, had need of the Doctor. Gallifrey was in unimaginable danger (again), threatened by one of his oldest and most terrifying enemies (again), and from the looks of thing the Doctor would be instrumental in winning the day (again). The Doctor has listened to all this carefully, his expression becoming more and more inscrutable as the briefing continued until finally he murmured his assent.

Later, on a balcony off the suite they'd been given, they figured out that this Gallifrey ("the second one," Fitz had pointed out cheekily) was very nearly identical to the original, only the War was in a different context and the Enemy was a bunch of metal horrors out to prove they were the dominant species in the universe.

"Wonder how that worked out."

"Faction Paradox did it."

"They don't exist anymore. I mean, never did. Well, had to but it's impossible for them to have."

"Very like them, that."

"Good point."

Fitz was working on his third cigarette when the Doctor told him he had to go home. There was no immediate response to that as Fitz idly tapped ash over the balcony railing. Beside him the Doctor sighed, then eventually clicked his tongue in irritation.

"I said-"

"I heard," Fitz replied. He turned his back to the railing and leaned against it, glancing sidelong at the Doctor. "And thanks for the offer, but I think I'll stay."

The Doctor slapped his hands down on the railing and glared out at the Capitol. He turned to his companion, expression both bleak and furious. "Why? Why would you want to go through this again?"

Fitz shrugged and took a last drag on his ciggie before stubbing it out. "If it's not this war it'll be someone else's," he remarked, and tugged at a lock of his hair which had been singed by laser fire the previous week. "Plus you need someone to watch your back and I don't trust this Romana any more than the last one." He grinned rakishly. "Besides, I'm not going to go breaking my vows now. In sickness and in health, good times and bad, richer or poorer, til-" He stopped himself short with a grimace. "Well, nevermind that bit."

"Mmm," the Doctor agreed. He turned his gaze upward, toward the burnt orange sky beyond the dome. "I almost wish I could hold you to that, then I could remind you that you're supposed to obey."

"Hey," Fitz said and cuffed him on the arm. "A little more respect for your husband." He sobered with a sigh and folded his arms. "Come on, Doc, you can't expect me to leave now things are getting interesting, can you?"

An echo of another turning point, another time when they could have parted company. In light of that there was only one answer the Doctor could make.

"No, I suppose that would be unfair." He clapped a hand on Fitz's shoulder and offered him a brilliant smile. "Come on, there's a lot to be done."


End file.
